


Trust Fall

by AADevil



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5900266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AADevil/pseuds/AADevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even at his lowest point, Barry Allen has always managed to keep his faith in others. It's what helps him see the good in Snart, and it's what brings them together.<br/>It's hard to keep that outlook going when everything seems to be working against him, especially when Snart is doing such a good job of pushing him away. But Barry knows better than to give up on things and people who matter, and he can't just let Snart destroy them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Fall

Absolutely no good can come out of caring too much. That’s a lesson that was taught to Barry the hard way. Most things in his life tended to present themselves with a punch, be it literal or not, and it tended to hurt.  
  
Not caring would be so simplistic. But it was painfully obvious that he would never be capable of that. He was the Flash, if he didn’t care, then who would? A symbol for hope, for a better tomorrow. All that inspiring stuff. Still, even with all that optimism, he should have learned by now. If he always expected the worst, then he wouldn’t be let down, wouldn’t be hurt. He’d tried, too. After betrayals of every kind, he became bitter, angry at the world. Even then, letting that negativity out on others was never an option, he still saw the good in them, saw the good in everyone.

Boy, was he regretting that now. He’d clearly misplaced his trust.

  
He stood with his back turned, hands fisted in his hair, eyes shut tightly, trying to remember why exactly he’d thought trusting Leonard Snart after everything, would be a good idea. He was an idiot. A naive, kid, just like Snart always told him. Barry could feel his presence, was sure he was still standing at the same spot, with his expression unchanged. He’d been silent, waiting for who knows what, for about 25 minutes now. The 25 minutes which he’d been pacing back and forth, recounting the events that had led up to this moment.

To put it simply; The Flash had fallen in love with Captain Cold. He was still, actually, in love with him. That wasn’t something that he could change, as much as he wanted it to. He could feel the ugly disgust deep in him, directed mostly at himself, for being the way he was.  
  
He wondered if Snart was even aware of how Barry felt. He’d never said it, but he’d thought it’d be obvious, considering everything.  
  
Were they even together? Was it a hoax from the very start? Oh, Snart was really such a convincing con. Barry could feel the bitter, ugly smile, and he was glad his face was hidden. Somehow, he had managed to convince himself that his feelings weren’t one sided.That he was...Loved. Capital L and everything. If he wasn’t so good at being a criminal, Len would make a great actor.  
Thinking back on his kind words, and gentle touches made him want to vomit. It was all fake. Had to be.

  
It was going well at first. ‘Accidental’ meetings which lead to them talking, and then talking some more. It wasn’t too long before their run ins became on purpose, scheduling to meet at later dates, they’d even gone on walks a couple of times. Of course, their personas were still in business. At first Barry hadn’t been so sure, tensing up immediately when he saw Captain Cold, gun heaved over his shoulder and a cocky smirk on his face. He must have noticed, because he’d frowned, and actually asked the Flash if he was okay. Next thing he knew, their exchanges became playful, even with the Cold gun blasting off towards his general direction, there wasn’t any real sense of threat, because there’s no way  
  
Cold would hurt him, he’d recognised that much from his voice, the silent message exchanged between them.  
They never brought it up, when they were outside their costumes. Just took it as a given that it was supposed to be treated as a different life, that they wouldn’t use anything personal against each other. It’s what had made Barry share. He spoke about his past, his fears, and hopes for the future. Len listened, and never once made him feel as if he was being weak, or too childish. Despite the fact that Snart hadn’t shared much about himself, it didn’t seem to matter. They’d established a mutual trust between each other.

 -  


It must have been that trust that led Barry to push further. They’d been sitting on the couch, watching some movie that he hadn’t been paying attention to. He was too busy staring. At first, it had just been glances, an attempt to be subtle, so as to not seem creepy. But after a while, he couldn’t help it. They were sitting close, their sides pushed up against each other, and when Len turned his head around to question the burning stares, he could clearly see the freckles across his nose and cheeks. Barry wondered how he’d never noticed that before, because wow he looked like a painting. It felt as if all the wind had gotten knocked out of him, and was this even real?

“I either have something on my face, or you’re contemplating how to take me out.”

Barry’s laugh came out forced, and quiet, and could you blame him? It was as if he was seeing Len for the first time. The glow from the TV was all the light in the room, illuminating the side of his freckled face, reflecting in his eyes. It made him notice how striking those eyes were, for probably the billionth time, but this time he actually paid attention to the thought, and vocalised it.

“I…R-Really like your eyes.” He sounded out of breath, and his heart was ready to burst out of his chest. That was probably the worst line he could have thought of. Great job, Barry, now you totally ruined the mood. Time to get kicked out with a glare. He braced himself for the rejection, watching carefully for a reaction as he felt his neck overheat, skin flaring with embarrassment. It surprised him to see Snart slowly lift his hand, and place it on the side of his face. His fingers felt cool and so very real against his heated skin, and he wished they would never move.

The upturn of Len’s lips was all the response he got before there were chapped lips pushing against his own. Barry’s heart could have stopped at that moment, and he could have died the happiest man. Good thing it didn’t, though, because this was not something that should be missed out on. The kiss was hesitant, as if he was being asked for permission, fingers slipping from Barry’s warm cheek, making him already miss the sensation. In response, he let his eyes flutter shut, pushing into the kiss, deepening it as he moved himself closer, practically crawling on Len’s lap.

He was eager, and it made Snart chuckle as he pulled away slowly. Barry bit his lip at the sight, eyes wide. Len’s lips were parted and red, cheeks warm with a faint, dopey smile. His breath was uneven, his free hand burning against Barry’s lower back. The best part was the hunger, his pupils dilated, consuming the enchanting green-blue in something more primal. A scene which was burned into his memory along with the feeling of thousands of butterflies soaring in the pit of his stomach.

  
 -

Nothing happened afterwards. They ended up snuggling on the couch, palms pressed together. Neither of them questioned what had happened, and it wasn’t because of nerves, or guilt. It was perfect, actually.  
After that day, they became closer. Holding hands as often as they could, even in public, mind you. Len had washed away any uncertainty on the matter when he squeezed the pads of his fingers against Barry’s, a gesture that meant so much more than it should have. They’d shared many kisses, too. They didn’t have the opportunity to go any further, though.

Thanks to Leonard Snart, that is.

Barry had gotten wind of when and where the heist would take place. Perks of being sort-of boyfriends with Captain Cold. Of course, he hadn’t sought out the information, he’d just happened to overhear his plans when he was on the phone. He tried not to feel too guilty about it, reminding himself that stopping criminal activities was his job, and it helped made his city a better place. Caitlin and Cisco didn’t question the validity of his information, but Joe insisted he tag along, just in case. It was still unclear what part about being the Flash and having superpowers suggested to Joe that he might need protection, but arguing would be useless, so he just let him tag along.  
Not the smartest idea, sure, but he was hardly given a choice.

The adrenaline wasn’t anything unusual, it was sort of a given considering he was about to bust a bunch of criminals. It wasn’t just that, though. It felt...Exhilarating. There wasn’t any tension, even though he knew he was about to bust his maybe-boyfriend. In fact, he was anticipating it, wondering what his reaction would be, how they would make it into a game.  
  
Once arriving at the scene, he scanned the place, noticing that there were multiple storage containers stacked and pushed closely together. Barry decided to leave Joe a few ways off, as a lookout, before storming through, zigzagging and checking all around until he found what he was looking for.  
Stopping behind a container, he tried not to think about the butterflies in his stomach when he heard Len speak. It was the guarded tone he used as Captain Cold, sardonic  
and...Well, cold. He was about to flash in, but something he heard made him pause.

  
“Like I said, the Flash isn’t going to be a problem.”

  
“Well sorry if I’m a little paranoid, but I am not getting locked up again.” The voice belonged to a girl, and Barry only had to think for a second before he realised who it belonged to. Peek-A-Boo.

  
“How can you be so sure?” Someone else piped up, Barry recognising it as belonging to the Weather Wizard. Had Snart brought his whole crew along? Actually, how many people were even in The Rogues?

  
“We have a hostage, remember? Just get to your positions.” There was an odd quality to Len’s voice, frustration mixed with something else, but that wasn’t the important bit.

  
Had he just said hostage? Barry blinked, and stared ahead of him, the excitement in him dying down at the possible scenarios. He could hear footsteps walking away, and he wanted to stop Cold from leaving, demand some answers. But that wasn’t the right thing to do, he had to disconnect himself from the situation. He relaxed his painfully clenched fists, and took a deep breath.

After reporting the situation to his team, they suggested Barry to find the hostage before revealing himself, and with the whole phasing thing, that shouldn’t be too hard, right? So, making sure that he stayed undetected, he searched the perimeter, until he found that he was looking for.  
Inside of a small warehouse, located at the back, was Iris. Strapped to a chair, and gagged. Fear struck him, noticing her head was hanging, and he quickly went up to her, hands cupping her cheeks and lifting up her face. “Iris!” He didn’t try to be quiet, and quickly checked her pulse. Relief sweeped him up, feeling the thrum of her heart through her skin, and he let go of her, sighing.

 

“Flash.”

 

At this point, anger was a familiar sensation, but not a welcomed one. He remembered it vividly, seeing Len. Captain Cold, with his gun aimed right at Barry, goggles shielding his eyes, expression unreadable. But that might have had something with the tears blurring his vision. They had never spoken about what he’d done before, maybe because that would have involved facing the reality of the situation, but he’d never expected that he’d be betrayed or hurt by Snart again. The realisation came to him with a heavy thud, and everything seemed to reverberate, and it all just seemed so, so far away.

Peek-A-Boo had popped up behind him, and before he could react, she was gone. With Iris. Barry was left in shock, turning to Cold. He would have charged before, would have let out his anger with punches and shouts, but now, he just stood, fists shaking, jaw clenched tightly.

As Cold explained how Iris would be returned once the Flash left them alone, Barry kept his sight on the gun pointing at him, his hearing muffled, as if he was underwater. It all seemed so slow, every sound and movement dragged on. Through the corner of his eye, he registered the way Snart seemed to be fidgeting, his free hand clenching and unclenching as he shifted from foot to foot. But all he could really see was the gun, Cold’s finger on the trigger, voice pouring out commands and instructions.  
He stood silent, the words in his head dying down before he could even process them. Nothing seemed like it would be right thing to say. So instead, Barry left, waiting at the location he was told that Iris would be at. Joe was with him, talking to him about something, probably angry. But he didn’t respond, couldn’t, really.

After what seemed like hours, Peek-A-Boo popped in with Iris, holding her shoulders before she backed off, a smirk on her face. Iris seemed fine, for the most part, smiling. She looked tired, and Barry forced himself to speak, asking her how she was, if she was hurt. He didn’t have to say much, though, because Joe was there, just as concerned, hugging Iris as tightly as he could without breaking her.

After flashing them back home, Barry had explained how he couldn’t stay, and although Joe seemed furious at the idea, Iris calmed him down, sending a sympathetic glance towards Barry’s way, which he was too tired to decipher what it could be for. Changing out of his Flash costume, he went to the place that he had been visiting for the past few months, staying over, really. It had felt like home. But it wasn’t. It was Captain Cold’s apartment. He phased through the door, and noticed Len standing in front of the window, the room dark aside from the city lights shining through the window, he was still in his gear, goggles still on as he stared out.

How much time had passed? Seconds dragged themselves out into minutes, and he still couldn’t get any words out. Where could he even begin? He so badly wished that it would all turn out to be some messed up dream, all he wanted was for it to not be true.  
Stopping his pacing, he turned and looked at the still perfectly motionless figure.

  
“Please tell me this is a mistake.” His voice came out a brittle thing, quiet, wavering, and Barry feared he wouldn’t be heard, that he’d have to speak up again, but he knew if he did that, it would come out in broken sobs and shouts.

  
“Scarlet…”

Hearing Len’s voice only made it worse, and he couldn’t stop himself. He hoisted Snart up from his shirt, and shoved him against the wall. He must have used more strength than he was trying to, because he heard Snart gasp, face contorting in pain for a mere second before his mask slipped back on.

  
“How could you do this to me!?” In clear contrast of his earlier uncertainty, Barry was loud, voice cracking slightly towards the end. He was angry, clearly. But what bothered him was that he could feel his eyes burning, and he snapped his mouth shut in an attempt to stop the tears. He wasn’t supposed to cry-Damn it, this was pathetic! He couldn’t even pull off anger properly.

He felt his grip tighten as he pushed Snart against the wall, knuckles white.

  
“I...Trusted you! I shared everything with you.” It was hard to look at him. What’s worse, is that Len’s face was blank. How could he be so unresponsive, when Barry’s heart was breaking? A sob escaped him, and one of his hands let go, only to swing right towards Len, lightning crackling. Snart didn’t even flinch as the wall cracked right besides his head, but there was a brief flash of pain on his face. He seemed so...Broken. It only caused his throat to tighten, his breath jerking because he felt like he was drowning, and he so badly wished the pain would stop.

 

“I loved you…” The room was in utter silence, and the only thing that was audible were the pathetic sobs bursting out of him, and Len’s ragged breathing.

 

“Hit me.”

 

Barry’s head jerked up, “What?”

 

“I deserve it, kid, hurt me.” There was a pleading tone to his voice, and Barry stared at him as if looking for the first time, noticing how his shoulders were shaking. He couldn’t have seen it before, but his eyes through the goggles spoke in volumes, the expression he previously thought had been blank. It was as if he’d been completely wrecked, lip ripped open and bleeding, eyes clouded with tears, entirely and purely hopeless.  
  
Slowly, his tight grip loosened, pulling his arm from the dent in the wall letting the rubble hit the floor, the sound echoing. He didn’t move away, staying close as confusion  
washed over his anger.

  
“You...Think I want to hurt you...?” He hated how he couldn’t help his emotions, because it was clear how hurt he was. In his voice, on his face, and Len saw it clearly, his fists tightening, knuckles white.  
  
  
A small thump resounded within the room as Snart’ head hit against the wall, making him wince at the impact. A pang of worry shot through Barry at the prospect of Len being hurt, but he quickly pushed the feeling down, angry at himself for caring so much still.

  
“It’s only fair, Scarlet. After what I did to you, I…”

  
Suddenly, a realisation came upon him. That was regret. But then, why do it in the first place, do something that he must have known would result in so much suffering? How could he do that, and still dare to look so pained, as if he was the one who had been betrayed.  
Something dripped on the floor, and he lowered his eyes, brows furrowing. His breath caught in his throat the sight, and his mouth tasted sour. Blood. It was dripping down Len’s skin, but he didn’t look even remotely concerned. Reaching out, Barry took both of Len’s hands in his, making him flinch back, a wide eyed look on his face, clearly scared of something, but what? Looking down, he curled open Snart’s fingers, and grimaced at the sight. His nails were covered in his own blood, and he must have put a lot of pressure to break skin.

  
Len snatched his hands back, as if burnt, and slid down the wall, bringing his knees up to his face and dragging his goggles down to his neck.

  
“I tried to stop it.” He sounded so defeated, and looked so fragile that it wrenched his heart. He let his knees hit the floor painfully as he knelt in front of the other, quiet.

  
“Mark...He...He kidnapped her, had her tied up and brought her in right before we were about to start the heist. I didn’t know what to do, kid. I plan everything and I prepare but this…” Len huffed out a bitter laugh, bloody fists reaching up to cover his face, as if attempting to hide away or disappear. “It’s pathetic.” He spat out, and it was hard to miss the way he dug his nails into his scalp, punishing himself for it. “I voiced my disagreement, but all of my crew were there, and they were sold on the idea to use her to stop you. They didn’t...Don’t, know about your identity, but Mark was trying to hurt Joe, and he knew that the Flash was affiliated with him. One bird, two stones.”

  
“It was selfish, and weak, but I couldn’t-didn’t stop him. I didn’t let anyone hurt her, but that’s just an excuse. I chose my crew over you. You’re right to hate me.” There was a quality in his voice that suggested that Len hated himself more than anyone ever could. Barry slumped forward, the pit in his stomach deepening as he reached out.

  
There wasn’t a reaction as Barry took his hands, but when he touched Len’s cheek, something seemed to snap. His face fell, the guarded mask slipping away, and it became all too obvious how in pain he was. The anger was still there, but he cared too much for the man. Letting his fingers gently brush over Snart’s cheek, swiping a thumb over the bottom of his lip, earning a wince. Gently wiping the blood from his chin and lip, Barry tilted his face up. A tongue swiped over the wound, a frown tugging on his lips as he unconsciously leaned into the palm resting on his cheek.

He tried to think over the words. As the boss of a crew, he had to keep up appearances that he was completely against Flash, and would do practically anything to stop him, while still going by the code. But why couldn’t he have called the heist off? Told Mark Mardon to go fuck himself, because what kind of a shitty idea was that? Had Len just not  
cared enough?

  
Something seemed to catch Len’s attention, because he was leaning forward, and grabbing the hand that was on his cheek. He appeared to be concerned, which just made it all much more confusing.  
  
  
“You’re hurt.” Snart’s voice sounded raspy, as if he’d been trying to keep himself from crying, and that was a thought that killed Barry. He peered down at his own hand, clasped in a rougher hold, skin coated in blood, and he found it funny how Snart was completely disregarding his own injuries.  
Barry’s knuckles were bruised and bleeding, and he was pretty sure he could see a hint of bone. So that’s what the tingling was about. The injuries were healing, no doubt, but it wasn’t a pretty sight. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Why do you care?” Barry finally spoke. He sounded empty. It was a weird sensation. Usually, he was always overwhelmed with emotions, always teetering on edge, but now he felt oddly blank. It wasn’t pleasant. “Why do you look so hurt, Snart? You did this.” He kept his eyes fixed on his knuckles, watching his skin regenerating, just so he didn’t have to look up, and see what kind of expression Len would have. “I didn’t need you to change. I know there’s already good in you. I do. So why? Why do this?” Tearing his eyes from the wound, he forced himself to raise his head. Barry’s face was still, and he was convinced he was done feeling until he noticed the tears in his eyes, gathering and spilling down his cheeks without permission.

“Because, Barry...You deserve better than me. It was obvious that I’d hurt you eventually, and I proved myself right.” He’d pushed Barry away. On purpose. “I’ve killed before. You know that. I’m no good.” And what for? Did he think that Barry would be better off without him? “You’ve got plenty of reasons to leave, Red.” It was all so wrong, and he so badly wished Len could understand. They were both hurting, and all because Len didn’t think he deserved happiness. Recognising the self loathing was easy, how he pushed others away before they could hurt him, or worse, before he hurt them. But the thing is, they get hurt in the process anyway. He knew that all too well, and fuck he didn’t know being on the receiving end hurt just as much.  
  
Len wasn’t looking at him anymore, and he seemed to recede into himself, expression going blank.

  
“You can’t do that.” Voice barely audible, Barry took the wounded palm in his a bit too fast, causing Len to suck in a breath, either from the pain, or the surprise, either way, it made Barry’s stomach coil, guilty. “I’m sorry. It’s because I never brought it up...I...I understand. I’m not trying to ignore your past, or change you. I’m not saying that I’m okay with what you’ve done, but I know that you have so much good in you. You’ve shown it to me so many times, and I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. I just want you to believe me.” Moving his other hand, he let his fingertips brush over Len’s cheek. He seemed conflicted, but Barry took it as a good sign when he felt his hand being grabbed, lips pressed against his open palm.

  
“Look at me.” Len froze, and closed his eyes, looking conflicted. “Please.” Barry sounded desperate to even his own ears, but all he wanted was to look into those gorgeous eyes. He moved in closer, his chest pressing against Len’s raised knees, making him lower his legs, moving his knees away, allowing Barry to shift even nearer. Their foreheads were practically touching, and his fingers gently caressing Len’s skin as he slowly opened his eyes, eyes searching.

 

“I love you.”

 

The heavy silence in the room reminded Barry that they were utterly alone as Len blinked, his eyes tearing up. There wasn’t any movement for the next few seconds, both of them not moving. A broken laugh escaped Snart a few seconds later, staring in utter disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe this could possibly be real. As if someone loving him was the biggest joke. It made Barry want to scoop him up, and wrap his arms around him, because no one should feel that way about themselves. Because Leonard Snart was human, and he could be loved just like anyone else. Because he wasn’t beyond repair, he wasn’t even broken. Thinking on what had led up for him to think that way brought up the anger from before, made him want to shatter even the slightest sliver of self doubt Len carried.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt two trembling and freezing cold fingers on his cheek, a soft smile tugging at his lips in response. Len looked so conflicted, so confused, still. All Barry wanted to do was reassure him, tell him how important he really was. But instead, he bumped his forehead against Len’s, “I love you, Len.” And his voice was more certain this time, louder. “I do. I love you.”

  
Overwhelmed, all Snart could do was close his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks as he bit his already hurt lip. “I’m not going to leave you. It’s not that easy to get rid of me, you hear?” Barry removed his hands from on top of Len’s, which were now resting around his neck, in favour of holding Len’s face, fingers carefully brushing against his skin. “I love you.” He whispered, as if sharing a secret, and something akin to a laugh came out of Snart as he opened his eyes.  
  
Barry leaned forward, just barely brushing his lips against the wonderfully chapped ones. Before he could go any further, he was pulled forward, their mouths crashing together. Len scowled at the pain from his split lip, but didn’t pull away, desperately clinging onto Barry, who kept pulling away, whispering reassuring words, tension slipping away with each kiss, relaxing into each other's touches.

 

“Ever. You hear me, Snart? You’re stuck with me.” He got pulled in another kiss, Len desperately clutching at the back of his neck, and Barry could feel the dried blood from the open injuries, making him pull away again, resting their foreheads together again as Len huffed, out of breath.

 

“I love you, too.” Barry could have missed it if they weren’t so close, but he saw the flicker of hope in Len’s eyes, and the way his shoulders seemed to sag, a lopsided smile on his face. It took Barry’s breath away. Len was so ridiculously beautiful, and damn it he wished he could always wear that expression. Affection filled up Barry’s chest, and he laughed.

  
They sat together, broken, hurt, and so terribly imperfect, but they weren’t about to give up. Holding each other carelessly, tightly, caked with blood and bruised, the tears that welled up in their eyes was out of joy. They wouldn’t admit it later on, with Iris cracking jokes and Joe with his crossed arms, looking stern, but unable to hide the happiness he feels for Barry, the kind of trust established after multiple ups and downs assuring him that Len is good for Barry. It was hard to miss the way they lit up whenever they saw each other, or when the other’s name was mentioned, and they’d automatically smile, because really, they were both smitten with each other.

  
Even with Barry knelt on the floor, legs falling asleep from being crouched for too long, and Len, his hands still wavering from the pain, but too distracted with Barry’s bright smile to even begin to care. It’d be a mad scene to any outsider, but not to them. So they grinned at each other, more carefree than ever, clumsily pressing their lips together, noses bumping as they laughed, tears flavouring their kiss.

  
No one said it would be easy, but things worth having in your life never did come easy. Besides, Barry Allen always liked a good challenge.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty addicted to Coldflash at this point, and I have so many more ideas to write on.  
> This is my second go at the whole hurt/comfort thing, hopefully I didn't overdo it or anything !!!  
> I love every piece of feedback I get, so please do feel free to comment ! Also I would appreciate any critique, or typos/mistakes being handed my way.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed it !!


End file.
